Danny, I never had the privilege of meeting you. It seems that every time E and I were home you were unreachable. Too cool to hang out with us. Haha! (as if).
Anyway, I know that you and E grew up together in that one horse town. Your school is still Pre-K through 12. Oh the terrorizing you (and your brothers) and E brought upon that place. Your parents and E's parents have lived next door to each other for all of your lives. I know that E does not have a single memory growing up that does not involve you and your brothers. Losing you broke his heart. And for that, my heart breaks too.
I cannot imagine how your family feels right now. You lost your life doing something that you love. You tried to hang on a day longer but the damage was done. May your family stay strong and be able to one day celebrate Christmas and New Years again without dreading life for an entire week. Thank you for being such a great friend to E all of these years. He loved you like a brother and will miss you always.
Rest In Peace Danny.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Welcome Peter
Two things I spend money on.
My hair and my nails. I have to.
Growing up such a freaking tom girl made me hate girly things. Even though I still wore dresses and all that jazz.
Now, as a professional woman, I look the girly part. Hair done, nails done, nice clothes etc etc. Be careful though, there is a mean and hateful tom girl in there.
Anyway...not the point of my entry. Since my nails were looking atrocious I took an extra bit of time at lunch (yes I used leave) to go get my nails done. I zipped over to T Nails in the plaza next door. My usual guy had a customer. So, I just took whoever was next.
This is where Peter enters the story. (enter stage right). I noticed as I sat down that Peter is a little older than most nail technicians. I didn't think anything of it and sat down ready to get beautified. I spoke to Peter a few times and he didn't respond. I thought "hmmm...maybe he is just really into his job." I didn't want to be racial in anyway and assume that he did not speak English. However, a few minutes later he said to me "I don't speak English." I responded with "well that was English and it was pretty good." He just looked at me blankly.
Now what? Let me just interrupt my own story here to say (or write) that Peter did an AMAZING job on my nails. I mean, the best nail job EVER. Seriously. Perfect length, color, shape, everything.
Okay...moving on. As he is polishing my nails Peter says "Your name?" Of course, I told him. Then I asked him his. "Peter" was his response. I took a moment to ask myself, "I wonder what his name really?"
My regular nail tech was sitting a nail station away and I asked him if Peter understands more English than he speaks. He said not really. Peter has only been in the US for 3 weeks. He said he is having a very rough time as the US is very scary to him. But that Peter loves that after so many years living in Vietnam that he is now free. Statements like that make me heart swell and bring a tear to my eye.
I took Peters arm and looked at him and said "Welcome to America Peter." He must have understood what I said because he replied with a "Thank you" as his eyes filled with tears.
My hair and my nails. I have to.
Growing up such a freaking tom girl made me hate girly things. Even though I still wore dresses and all that jazz.
Now, as a professional woman, I look the girly part. Hair done, nails done, nice clothes etc etc. Be careful though, there is a mean and hateful tom girl in there.
Anyway...not the point of my entry. Since my nails were looking atrocious I took an extra bit of time at lunch (yes I used leave) to go get my nails done. I zipped over to T Nails in the plaza next door. My usual guy had a customer. So, I just took whoever was next.
This is where Peter enters the story. (enter stage right). I noticed as I sat down that Peter is a little older than most nail technicians. I didn't think anything of it and sat down ready to get beautified. I spoke to Peter a few times and he didn't respond. I thought "hmmm...maybe he is just really into his job." I didn't want to be racial in anyway and assume that he did not speak English. However, a few minutes later he said to me "I don't speak English." I responded with "well that was English and it was pretty good." He just looked at me blankly.
Now what? Let me just interrupt my own story here to say (or write) that Peter did an AMAZING job on my nails. I mean, the best nail job EVER. Seriously. Perfect length, color, shape, everything.
Okay...moving on. As he is polishing my nails Peter says "Your name?" Of course, I told him. Then I asked him his. "Peter" was his response. I took a moment to ask myself, "I wonder what his name really?"
My regular nail tech was sitting a nail station away and I asked him if Peter understands more English than he speaks. He said not really. Peter has only been in the US for 3 weeks. He said he is having a very rough time as the US is very scary to him. But that Peter loves that after so many years living in Vietnam that he is now free. Statements like that make me heart swell and bring a tear to my eye.
I took Peters arm and looked at him and said "Welcome to America Peter." He must have understood what I said because he replied with a "Thank you" as his eyes filled with tears.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)